Bit My Pretty Red Heart in Two
by 823freckles
Summary: Alana takes Leta to meet Hannibal. A follow up to "Nine Months." Hannibloom.


**Title:** Bit My Pretty Red Heart in Two  
**Fandom:** Hannibal  
**Pairing:** Hannibloom  
**Rating:** r  
**Author's notes:** Bet you thought I'd forgotten about Leta. No, now I'm back to it, trying to pretend everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. Thanks to Charlotte for reading this first.

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"You're meeting daddy today," Alana cooed to her baby daughter, who was currently laying in her bassinet in Alana's bedroom. The baby smiled up at her mother, little bubbles of spit forming at the corners of her mouth. Alana smiled down at Leta. She couldn't get over how pretty her little girl was. Her fuzz of dark hair stuck straight up and her maroon eyes gleamed in the morning light. Her ears were tiny shells shaped just like her father's. Her nose and chin were her father's as well. Other than her dark hair and the feminine shape of her face, Leta was all her father, all Hannibal.

She smiled for her baby's sake. She put on a brave face every day. But loving her daughter reminded her how much she loved Hannibal still. And it hurt. Every day it hurt to be reminded of her love for a monster.

Alana didn't know if taking Leta to meet Hannibal was a good idea. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a really bad idea. But she wanted to show him what he was missing. He was missing every moment of their beautiful daughter's growth because he couldn't stop.

"Selfish, Alana. Selfish," she thought. She couldn't help how she felt though. She just wished he could have stopped killing for her. She could have forgiven him every kill before _them_ if he'd stopped for her. Then maybe she'd have him with her. She imagined what it would be like to have Hannibal with her for the past three months with her and Leta.

Even if he was a monster, she imagined he'd be a wonderful father. He was cruel and vindictive; he was also patient and gentle. She could imagine Hannibal with Leta in his big, strong arms. He'd cradle the baby to his chest, rocking her back and forth as he sung to her in his accented baritone.

Today she wouldn't have to imagine anymore. She scooped up Leta, and balancing the baby in the crook of her left arm, she walked to Leta's nursery. She placed Leta in her crib and walked to the closet.

Alana rifled through the closet in Leta's room. She'd already picked out her own outfit and was dressed for the occasion; she was wearing a patterned red and white wrap dress. The new dress successfully masked her baby weight and was in Hannibal's favorite color on her. But she couldn't decide what to dress the baby in. Alana sighed as she flipped past dresses and rompers, leggings and ruffled tops. Then she saw the dress from her mother in the closet. The cap-sleeved dress was red with white polka dots. It would go with her own dress, and the red would bring out the color in Leta's unique eyes. It would let Hannibal see how Leta had his exact eyes, and she hoped that fact made him ache. She pulled the dress from its small hanger. She walked to the crib and picked up Leta again, carrying the baby over to her changing table.

"You're so lovely, my little ladybug," Alana tickled her fingers over the baby's belly, eliciting a melodious laugh. Then she changed Leta's diaper and dressed her in white tights, the red dress, and red patent Mary Jane shoes. "You're ready. You're ready."

She was speaking just as much to herself as to Leta. The oblivious baby gurgled as Alana lifted her into her arms.

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A young receptionist held the door for her as Alana maneuvered the diaper bag and the baby around the piles of papers in Dr. Herveaux's office. She thought about how different this office was now from when it was Dr. Chilton's office. It was no longer compulsively neat, for one thing, nor did it seem to radiate something slimy, like when it belonged to the previous occupant. Now it reminded her of her own office, all comfort amidst the chaos. Dr. Herveaux turned and greeted her.

"Dr. Bloom. And child. What's her name?" He smiled at the baby. The smile quickly turned into a frown as he turned his gaze to Alana. "Again, do you think this is the wisest course, Doctor?"

"No," she thought. She answered, "Yes. And her name is Leta."

"She looks like you," he lied smoothly. "I was…am…strongly against this. But Hannibal Lecter has some powerful lawyers on his side who fought for this visit. These are some highly unusual circumstances."

He sat at his desk and leaned back in his chair. "His lawyers have pointed out that he has thus far been an ideal occupant here. He has given us no trouble. Yet we know how dangerous he is. Thus, you will be attended to by four armed guards. One wrong move, and he will be subdued swiftly and immediately."

He leaned forward and then stood, reaching across the desk to stroke Leta's hair. "Don't agitate him, Doctor. I don't want to see this baby hurt."

She wanted to say, "Hannibal would never hurt his child." But she didn't know if that was the truth. She clutched Leta closer to her chest, and prayed he wouldn't hurt her.

Dr. Herveaux walked around his desk and held the door open for her. "Come with me."

She followed him from the room down dimly lit corridors. She remembered that Hannibal was being kept on the lowest level, where there were no windows. The halls were cold, and she heard distant screams. She shivered. "This is no place for anyone," she thought to herself. She shuddered to think of her love in this place until he died. Then she reminded herself of his actions, including gutting Will, and she found herself hoping he would rot in this place. This was Alana's reality now; she was constantly torn between love and hate for the monstrous man who fathered her child.

Dr. Herveaux opened a door for her in the visitor's wing, then led her to a private room, past armed guards. She could see through the glass of the cubicle where she would see him again, but her view of Hannibal was blocked by four more armed guards inside the small room. She took a deep breath as Dr. Herveaux held the door open for her. Then she walked in.

Hannibal sat at the far end of a small table. Each hand was cuffed and chained to the table in front of him. He was wearing a beige prisoner's uniform. Somehow, he managed to make it look good; he sat with dignity as if he were wearing one of his three-piece suits. She swallowed, trailing her eyes from his body to the table, then finally to his eyes.

She stared at her baby's eyes in the face of the monster. Tears welled up in her own eyes. She wanted to fling herself at him, but whether to claw his eyes out or kiss him, she wasn't sure. She held even tighter onto Leta, and the baby started to fuss. Hannibal's eyes zeroed in on the child, and Alana had to fight the urge to hide Leta behind her back or run from the room.

"Sit, my dear. I won't…bite. Not you or my daughter, at least." He smirked at his own cannibal joke.

Alana sat in the chair and cuddled Leta to her chest. The baby started rooting for her nipple, and Hannibal's eyes darkened before he spoke. "She's hungry. Like father, like child."

Alana leaned down and pulled a bottle of breast milk from the bag, and then started to feed Leta. Hannibal looked disappointed. Alana felt a shiver of pleasure crawl up her spine. What would the guards have done if she'd pulled out her breast in front of this cannibal, to feed her child? She recalled an image of Hannibal on bended knee, his mouth at her breast and his fingers knuckle deep inside of her. She bit her lip as she felt her nipples harden. Hannibal tilted his head and chuckled, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Then his eyes once again strayed to the baby. It seemed as if he couldn't choose which one of them to focus on as his eyes moved back and forth between mother and child. Alana watched his eyes as she fed Leta. The hunger was visible in his eyes, but not hunger for flesh. His hunger was for his woman and the product of their union; he drank in the sight of them like a man parched in a desert.

Alana burped the baby and put the bottle away in the bag. Then she caught Hannibal's eye. "Her name is Leta. Leta Mischa. So I did that for you."

"Thank you, Alana. That was gracious of you."

He turned to the guards. "Gentlemen, I believe the agreement was that I should be allowed to hold my child. Remove these handcuffs, please."

Alana gasped. She hadn't agreed to let Hannibal hold Leta. Certainly the guards wouldn't allow it? But one guard stepped forward with a key and unlocked the handcuffs around Hannibal's wrists. Alana once again had to fight the urge to run from the room. Hannibal rubbed his wrists, then looked up at Alana. He must have been able to see the panic in her eyes, because his own eyes softened.

"Look at how you protect our child. But you don't need to protect her from me. That is my promise."

Alana still didn't loosen her grip on Leta.

Hannibal reached out his arms. Alana flinched. "Please," he stated, tilting his head to the side as his strong arms reached out toward them.

Alana hesitantly handed the baby over to her father. Hannibal cradled the baby delicately in his arms, those same arms that had taken life from so many victims, including her friend Beverly. Alana brought her hand to her mouth and chewed her cuticle as she nervously watched Hannibal with their daughter.

He stared curiously at the baby, who stared back with those same uncanny eyes. Father and daughter gazed at each other, when Hannibal began to speak quietly. "'But no less a devil for that, no not / Any less the black man who / Bit my pretty red heart in two.' I am your daddy, Leta, for better or for worse." Then before Alana or any guard could stop him, he raised the child to his mouth.

Alana cried out and reached for her baby. The guards rushed to the table.

But Hannibal merely placed a kiss on the baby girl's forehead. When Alana saw the tender moment between Hannibal and their daughter, her hands dropped and she let out a sob. Her heart was beating, beating right out of her chest. The guards backed up, but one spoke, "Don't do that again, Doctor."

He gave no sign that he heard the guards at all, ignoring them completely. He continued to stare at his daughter. And what did Alana see in his eyes?

Wonder. The monster was awed at his child.

Alana bit back her question. She wanted to ask, but couldn't; "Would you have stopped, for her? For us?"

Hannibal's eyes drifted from Leta back to Alana. He uncannily answered her unspoken question. "If I'd known you were carrying my daughter, I would have ceased my…activities." Another sob from Alana.

"I'm sorry, my darling. My darlings." He spoke to both of them now. "It was not fated."

Hannibal handed the baby back to her mother. Alana held onto the baby like she held onto a life raft; she felt like she was floating and fading away at the same time. Her heart ached.

Hannibal reached for her hand, and Alana didn't hesitate to reach out and grasp it. His grip was firm; he stroked one finger across her palm. "Let our daughter be a comfort to you, Alana. She will be a comfort to me, in the dark without a view. I will recall her beautiful face every day."

Alana leaned towards Hannibal, her head coming to rest gently against her baby's cheek. Then she cried openly onto Leta's tiny face.

"I love you," she couldn't say. He'd bit her heart in two.

"I know" was his unspoken response.

* * *

Hannibal speaks lines from Sylvia Plath to Leta. I really wish I had any artistic talent at all, because I really want a picture of little Leta with her hair sticking all up in her pretty dress in her awed daddy's arms. Any artists out there? :p


End file.
